A Matter of Vision

My people have lived in darkness for all our history, never seeing daylight. We served false gods; lived for them, died for them. Their word was law, and we obeyed.

Perhaps there were others like myself who saw the falseness of such service. If so, they never spoke the truth, but lived in silence and died in slavery.

In all the history of my people, only one man had the vision to see daylight in the midst of darkness. He saw the freedom of our people long before they knew what the word meant. We called him 'fool' and 'dreamer', yes, even those who knew him well. Even I told him that his dreams of freedom would be his undoing, yet he continued to believe.

He saw the future when others did not.

He fought for it when others cowered in the dark, content to let the Goa'uld rule them.

He showed us that the power of even a System Lord is only in the strength of his Jaffa.

I saw the falsity of the Goa'uld long before Teal'c came to my notice, but I never saw the freedom of my people. In that, Teal'c has outstripped me.

And I am proud to have known him, apprenticed him, and fought alongside him.

Every true Master dreams of an apprentice who will surpass him, a protégé in whose development a warrior can take pride and joy.

Teal'c, son of Ronak, was such a protégé to me.

I brought him to the notice of Apophis, trained him, praised him, scolded him and cultivated the seeds of doubt in him.

In return he rebelled against the false gods, and set in the heart of every Jaffa warrior both a seed of doubt and a flower of admiration.

It was he who brought me to Chulak and led me to this altar in the fast-falling snow.

The others remained behind at the Chappa'ai, and only my one-time student - my best and greatest student - accompanied me here.

Although it is the way of the Jaffa to show little emotion, his grief was clear in his eyes as he saluted me. "Master Bratac."

"Teal'c." My hand shook a little as I laid it on his shoulder. "You have done well, son of my heart. I am proud of you."

I ordered him to leave me because he would not otherwise have left. Old I may be, and dying, yet still I can command men. He saluted me again, fist to heart, then turned and walked away without looking back.

How proud I am of him!

As he faded into the shadows of the forest, I turned to the altar before me.

It was once a place of veneration, where young men came to offer their sacrifice before Apophis. They would leave a token of their childhood on these stones to show that even their past belonged to their god, as they emerged into manhood and took up staff weapon and armour to serve in his forces.

Now it is a relic to the slavery of the Jaffa.

While some of our people still work in slavery to the false gods, there are none who continue to serve Apophis. That one is dead and may he rot in Netu while those who died in his service celebrate in Kheb.

I hope to celebrate in Kheb. To rest forever among other Jaffa warriors and to tell them of what is happening to our people. To tell them of the hope of freedom for all Jaffa.

I hope to die with dignity.

The Jaffa cannot live forever, although the infant Goa'uld extends our lifespan. My primta has matured, and my aged body will not accept another one. It was my choice to give up the primta to the humans for experimentation and no-one could gainsay me. Hammond of Texas promised that every effort would be made to find a way to remove the primta from my people, thus truly freeing my people of the taint of the Goa'uld, and his word is good.

It was likewise my choice to return to Chulak, to die on the world where I was born.

The tiny Doctor with the commanding demeanour wished to use the human medicines to 'ease my passing', but both Teal'c and I told her it was not our way. Permission was granted for my return to Chulak, and SG-1 to accompany me.

O'Neill and Major Carter have remained at the Chappa'ai in the company of the Jaffa warriors who accompanied me to Earth. The Jaffa resistance has grown since the day Teal'c revealed the nature of the one who called himself K'tano and walked among us in mimicry of the Jaffa. The size of the force is significant, yet not excessive. While there are few on Chulak who would be foolish enough to challenge not only the warriors of Earth but also those who now fight for the freedom of their people, it never does harm to be cautious.

Still, there remain Jaffa who do not desire freedom. Some have sworn allegiance to other Goa'uld, afraid of freedom and all it entails.

I think of something that Hammond of Texas told me the other afternoon as we sat together in his office and shared reminiscences of the people we knew long ago and who have gone before us. There are none so blind as they that cannot see the darkness.

Indeed. There are none more dangerous to the cause of Jaffa who would be free than the stubbornness of those who will not see that the Goa'uld are nothing more than parasites.

Darkness, indeed.

The night is coming, its shadows greying the snow that drifts about me in great piles, and I fall to my knees. Not in homage to the god for whom this altar was erected, but in weariness and death. The snow is cold about my legs, but I pay it no attention - a warrior can push his thoughts beyond physical discomfort if he so chooses, and I choose so now.

I have seen the darkness - I have lived it. Yet in the midst of it, I could see no way for my people to escape. Fate or destiny has granted me the sight of the beginning of freedom for the Jaffa - and has even granted me a small part in the battle by giving Teal'c to me to raise up and train. Teal'c, both my successor and my hope: the leader of an army of Jaffa warriors who hold the belief in their right to rule their own lives.

A leader with the vision to show his people the way out of their slavery.

Tek ma tay, Teal'c.

It was not you who was well-met by I, but I who was well-met by you. I nurtured your doubt, and with that small gift you have raised a mighty army.

Fight well, son of my heart. Fight hard.

The warriors in Kheb shall know your name and what you have done for our people - I shall see to that. In life I could give you only the twilight of my years. In death, I am proud to have known you, stood beside you, learned from you as you once learned from me.

Above me, birds call in the branches of the camphor trees. Their voices echo in the deserted forest, heralding the end of the day.

It is a fitting time to die - the twilight of my years and the dawn of the Jaffa freedom.

My body is cold, yet also strangely warm, and my thoughts consume me - fragments of my life and the warriors I knew and fought alongside. The battles I fought for a 'god' who cared about nothing beyond his own glory, and the people I killed in his name. May whatever powers judge a man's heart and soul forgive me for the evil I did as the First Prime of Apophis' armies. May the good I tried to do outweigh the evil in my life, for I would be judged and not found wanting.

Time has lost meaning when my legs collapse beneath me; they no longer have the strength to hold me up. I sink into the drift beside me and let the snow cover me up, a shroud for an old warrior.

And as darkness descends on the land and my life, one thought burns brightly within me.

I die free.

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